


Dried Persimmons

by Forthebuns



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Animal Death, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Entrapment, Escalating Descriptions of Demon Dick, General Weird Magic Shit, Im making these up as I go idk, Mentions of Past/Current Lovers, Never trust a witch, Nonbinary Character, Nudity, Other, Porn With Plot, Speaking In Tongues is Sexy, Tags to be updated as I figure this shit out, Talk about pussy power....., Why Did I Write This?, and the plot thickens, is 'cockslut' an ok tag?, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-04-20 13:14:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14261766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forthebuns/pseuds/Forthebuns
Summary: Alternative Title: The Unabridged Guide to Contractual Demon Sex Without Catching Feelings, Taming Up to 30 Species of Toad, and Murdering A God In Cold Blood.





	1. Bombina Bombina

**Author's Note:**

> Im a weenie when it comes to writing fics and an even bigger weenie about posting them, please enjoy
> 
> Rejected Fic Titles: My Witch Partner Can't be This Cute!, Dig Bick Bemon , Did Yall Really Want This lmao??, Advanced Practices in Being a Heathen
> 
> Inspired by a lot of things, mostly my shitty monster kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternative Title: The Unabridged Guide to Contractual Demon Sex Without Catching Feelings, Taming Up to 30 Species of Toad, and Murdering A God In Cold Blood.

Being young (“For the last time, six hundred is not young!!!” They can hear the protests of their even younger coven now) Orochimaru has made many, many mistakes. Some relatively small, others near fatal. But they’ve always fixed them in some way or the other by the grace of a neglectful god.

But this.

This fuck up was incomparable to any other they’ve made.

The now exsanguinated suckling pig lay limp and cooling in their arms, its blood covering the dark candle lit room and their half naked form as they crouch close to the ground, hardly in praise and even less so in fear but in shock of the demon before them.

(Accidentally summoned, they might add for clarification. That...that was the mistake.)

He’s, to say the least, massive, bending the space around him to fit into the small room. Oro guesses seven or eight feet at least, and every inch of him that isn’t covered in silver or gemstone has red markings etched and scrawled into brown skin. It stops at his horns, dark and scarlet tipped. 

“Nice tits, little witch” his voice like distant thunder seeped into his ears and skin, lighting a fire in their stomach and that’s when they finally looked at his face.

It was hard trying to make eye contact, not because of the obvious power emanating from him but because his pupils are completely sideways and its just..uncomfortable.

(They force themself to at least look at his face because they made the mistake of looking down and realized he showed up damn near naked which...they are too but that’s beyond the point right now.)

Oro slowly stands up, dropping the pig, eyes flickering down to make sure the seal they made earlier wasn’t broken, finding it was keeping him contained. (He can bend the space but not break the seal which….wasn’t completely comforting…)

“......You’re not supposed to be here...who are you?” 

“You’re a dumb one, huh?” His head tilts back in amusement, his grin wide and full of sharp teeth as white as the mess of hair trailing behind him. “You /asked/ me to be here, I dunno why you’re so confused.” They sit up more in their confinement, legs crossed and propping his head up on his hand. They hear the sound of his jewelry moving and frowns.

“....I was summoning a new familiar. Not you.” They wave their hand in his direction, starting on cleaning up the mess of carcasses, blood and wax, adjusting the (cliche) weeping hat on their head “But I’ll guess you’ll have to work” The witch knows they’re walking on eggshells being rude to something that can kill them, evidenced by the annoyed growl that shook the room.

“I dunno what a familiar is but you’re not gonna talk down to me, brat. Do you know who I am?” The demon’s grin shifts, cracks into something ominous and Oro steps closer, candle light flickering across their body, the sheer slip hanging around their waist dragging behind them.

“By your attitude and power….and the fact that you can’t stop looking at my breasts” his eyes flicker to their face “You’re a hybrid...an Incubus and a higher level demon. You’ve earned your right to act the way you do, I’m sure. But so have I.” they turn around with that, leaving the room, the demon watching the witch’s hair and hips wave goodbye to him. 

He licks his lips and gets comfortable.

\------------------

“You want me to be your assistant, is what you’re saying?” His expression is tired and annoyed after the drawn out explanations that he could’ve gone without. Though, he does enjoy watching the witch fidget and move around. It’s a shame they got ‘properly’ dressed. (It’s used loosely because for one, he thought witches were the run naked and free type, he would've liked to have seen more of that and for two, the sheer black blouse is doing absolutely nothing to cover their chest and it is….an experience.)

“No. It’s…..a mutual relationship, where we both benefit from each others magic and power. If anything, it's usually the familiar who is the teacher, if positions matter that much to you. Though I’m not sure if there's much for you to teach me….”

“I already told you about your smart mouth.” the room shakes again, his eyes levelling with the witch’s.

“I know what you said. I just do it because it gets your eyes on my face again.” he snorts, rolling his eyes and looking away, not in embarrassment but pissed because he was ‘caught’ again, the markings on his skin shifting with annoyance as do the thicker lines on his face. Oro looks down at the seal, trying to concentrate on strengthening it but they know it’s growing weaker as this goes on. They wipe their hands on their apron out of nerves, sighing.

“You don't know much about witches….but...we’re weaker without a familiar.” they look away, serving him innocence and vulnerability in this moment “Every bond we make gives us strength and without them…..we’re practically nothing. I know what you’re capable of...so-” 

“Desperate little witch….” He cuts them off, head tilting, Oro following the arc of his horns with their eyes “You’re not as weak as you try to make yourself out to be...but as much as I like having my ego stroked….what’s in it for me?” his nails click on the wooden floor, almost counting down to when the seal will break

“....You’re still an Incubus...so I can guess” their hand brushes along their neck, regaining their posture despite the demon nearly seeing right through them, feeling the ruffling of the sheer blouse stopping at their jaw “This is long term…..neither of us have short lifespans or die that easy….” their eyes flicker his way

“Don’t worry your little head” he grins again “I do payment plans….I'll be your familiar, you teach me and I’ll teach you, you get your power, all your little potions, tricks and spells……….and your body, energy, and whatever's left of your soul becomes mine. Forever.” The word 'forever' crawls right up Oro's spine, making them shift in place

“.....how do I know you’re not lying and won’t just fuck me to death?” It’s his laughter that shakes the room this time, instead of being warm like a humans, its an inferno. They do step back a bit but it’ll take more than that to make them wilt.

“It’s consumated, dumbass. And I’m not gonna do it in one go, where the fun in that? I said I’ll draw it out for you…” Oro swallows, feeling the words seep into themself like before “That’s the worst thing, being like this. I can make all sorts of crazy promises….but the incubus in me wont let me go back on them.” he huffs, sounding annoyed at the idea of actually doing what a promise is supposed to do: be kept.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it…” they mumble stepping forward, at the edge of the seal, feeling the condensed magic contained in it “We have a deal then?” they’ve never had to bargain and beg with any familiar before. When they were summoned, they knew, and graciously filled the role until the end of their life. Something about this should humble Oro, but they just knit their brows, thinking it’s ridiculous.

“Yeah we do.” his teeth make a return with a face splitting grin, holding a hand out, sparking against the edge of the barrier “I’ve heard rumours witches are really good. More durable than humans and full of that chaotic shit. Let me out so I can taste it.” his voice dips, going right to the flame they lit earlier, hesitating before letting their hand reach across the seal, using their foot to wipe away a sliver of the blood seal.

It breaks with a pop, the candles dying all at once and the room becoming dim. They feel the demon's hand grip their arm, sparks flying off their skin, magic clashing as they’re pulled down with a yelp. Oro doesn’t crash into him, like they were expecting, but instead hits the wooden floor with a soft thud, trying to get up but but feeling a large hand press them back down. 

“I was wondering how you got this on…..not like it covered a damn thing…..” Oro feels him hovering over them,all around them really thanks to the dark and the sheer size of his presence, nails tracing along buttons that lined the back of their neck and down their back as he kept them pinned down, listening to their quick breathing.

“I’d apologize for being so rough but….I already know you like it. I won’t break you though, not yet at least” a hand settles on the back of their neck, the other travelling down, breath hitching and squirming as his hand squeezed along their waist. He mutters about ‘too many damn’ layers as he digs his nails into their ass, squeezing the back of their neck at the same time, drawing out a breathy gasp.

“Huh…good to know.”

“Wh-what?” they don't mean to stutter, honestly.

“Just getting to know you.” they can hear the grin in his voice “We do it through touch, makes it a little less awkward so you don't have to blurt it out. Now I know…” he digs his nails into their right hip, making them choke back an embarrassing noise miserably “Everything.”

There's a sudden weight against their back and Oro is convinced their going to be crushed by this giant asshole of a demon but it’s…..comforting, in an odd way, the smell of smoke and rain clouding his senses maybe. Or its the mouth and sharp teeth against their neck, threatening to a rip the thin fabric as he pushes his hand right up and over their chest, groping and pinching purposefully and it's hard to keep any noises quiet. There’s annoyance after a while, neither his hands or mouth able to get through the fabric so he sits up, glaring down at them and Oro can feel his weird eyes burning holes into them, taking a moment to heave out a breath.

It takes one finger for him to pop every button running up their back,being greeted with pale skin and finding every mole currently visible. He ignores the second yelp of the day and smirks as they turn around to look up at him, face reddening and trying to hold the ruined blouse up.

“That was at least fifty years old, you ass-” they dont get a chance to finish, not expecting to be kissed senseless and pushed back down on their their stomach, a large hand curled under their jaw to keep them in place, nails pressed into their skin. It’s not normal, suddenly feeling as though they’re swimming through syrup and heat- an aphrodisiac. They should know, should have anticipated it but they’re already drunk off it. Oro could easily counteract the effects but…….

When the demon ruts against them, something huge and…./textured/ rubbing against their ass and lower back they, know it’s for a fucking reason.

“Names have power you know…” he growls right into their ear “But just so you have something to scream out in the next five minutes, it’s Jiraiya. Or, if you wanna be cute, gimme a nickname” and with that they bite the witch’s neck, leaving a deep set mark and drawing blood, revelling in the loud moan he gets from it.

\------------------------------

Despite all the mostly true rumours about witches, Oro has some reservations about sex.

But they’ve all but disappeared as they’re busy getting bent in half. They /might/ have let the demon rip off the rest of their clothes (except for, strangely enough, the apron and the hat……) and they /might’ve/ let their size kink overpower their judgement (They know incubus can change their appearance to suit different needs and wants but frankly….after feeling him press /that/ dick into their back...there’s no need to change. None at all.)

“I know you can be louder than that…” Jiraiya’s voice bounces inside their skull, sounding like hes doubled as he presses deeper into the witch and they swear they can feel it in their goddamn stomach, piercings and all, unable to do anything but whimper louder, hair sticking to their face and back and sprawled across the floor. 

The demons pace was brutally, maddeningly slow and Oro knows he’s getting off just by teasing them. It wasn’t keeping to the promise of not breaking them so quickly, it's because he wants to see the witch in them come out, the ‘chaotic shit’. And...it was working. They were getting impatient and honestly wanted to push back and get impaled, fucking themself silly until they blacked out in a haze of sex drunk madness.

The witch knows better. They’re not giving it to him. He hasn’t earned that side of them yet.

Oro is pulled out of their thoughts by the sudden change of pace, giving up on pillowing their head in their arms to claw at the dried blood on the floor, gasping with every sharp snap of his hips, managing to push his cock deeper with every thrust, getting dizzyingly harder until the witch swore they saw stars.

“I don’t like being ignored, little witch.” the demon above them laughs breathlessly, raking his nails up their back to make them arch and cry out, tipping their hat forward to grip their long hair and pull, drinking in every debauched noise they made. Jiraiya is possibly…..enjoying this too much. Maybe he’s a little drunk off them (the magic and energy flowing out of them is like a fucking finely aged wine, he wonders just how old they really are), maybe witches do have mind numbing pussy, or maybe this is the best deal hes made in about three hundred years. Maybe it’s all three. 

He’ll think about it later because their moans just hit a delicious octave.

Oro is positive if they died because of contractual demon sex, they wouldn’t be upset in the least bit. At least they’ll go out with a hell of a bang and the best death story of any witch ever to be passed down. They feel the cool slide of metal then hot, slick skin against their marked up back, hiccuping out a soft moan before going back to breathy little ‘ah’s and choked back whines, trying to push back against him to chase the pressure and piercings sliding in and out of them and getting more than they bargained for when they’re practically slammed forward, eyes rolling far back in their head and thoughts reduced to warm static.

“I knew you were a little cockslut….it was written right on your face….” Jiraiya growls right in their ear again,making theirs toes curl, keeping a steady rhythm as his hand curled around their neck and dragged down, right over their chest and shoving the apron aside-

“Remember what I told you to scream. Use that mouth for something good for once” he grins, biting at their neck and drawing blood again, feeling the witch buck up against them with a shout as he dragged his fingers up and against their clit, damn near feeling the hot white lightning that ran up their spine from it and listening to them beg, a broken record of ‘please’ and ‘don’t stop’ and something in latin as they pulled their hat over their face.

Its cute,all of it really, but especially thinking he was going to stop.

\-------------------------

Oro doesn't really remember how long it took for their orgasm to hit them like a goddamn freight train after being reduced to begging but they figure about two minutes give or take. Their eyes were filled with white stars, and is pretty sure the demons name left their mouth a couple times in a series of sobs and shouts as he purred something into their ear, encouragement? Probably an insult, he knows about the humiliation kink too so it wouldn't be too far off. 

The white haze eventually clears, feeling unbelievable spent and exhausted, blinking slowly as they took in everything again. They're laying on their back now, noting the apron being shredded to hell so that leaves the hat as the sole survivor, still firm on their head. Oro lolls their head to the side, seeing the remains of the summoning circle in flaking dried blood.

“Oh, you’re awake. I didn’t take you for a drooler but I guess I learned something new” they blink, looking down their chest to see the demon looking a little less demonic, horns, jewelry and body markings gone,smaller in size but still too fucking big. 

“...you’re actually wearing pants.” they croak out, voice hoarse from...well...being fucked within an inch of their life. Jiraiya grins smugly, the markings under his eyes following.

“Don’t get used to them.” they hum in understanding, sitting up after a moment, watching bruises shift along their skin. Its been a while since they’ve gotten bruises this deep and it's….oddly nice.

“...Since you drew blood plenty of times...I don’t have to worry about the whole magic bonding process…..thing. Do you feel it?” They stretch, raising their hands above their head to Jiraiya’s wide eyed surprise. They shouldn’t even be able to be coherent right now, let alone move around casually, while naked, mind you. Arguably, he should be worried, should be able to tell they’re not like his usuals that would just take being fucked into a submissive coma, but all he feels is excitement, the rumours are true and he’s looking forward to playing with them more. 

“I feel something alright…” he says hungrily, getting an eye roll, Oro pulling their hat over their head and standing up, slowly and only a little shakily 

“You need to fix my clothes….I also really need a bath…” they pointedly look at him then the door as they muse

“Remember I’m not your maid, brat. We had a deal.” his expression goes dark, annoyed at being told what to do. 

“We did. And you’re keeping your half while I keep mine….I just have a lot of…... fine print.” they raise a hand, crossing their middle and ring finger, Jiraiya suddenly going rigid and being lifted to his feet, a small smile gracing their face at being pleased the bond worked “Don’t worry. It’s...kind of like a leash.” They make a sweeping gesture and hes pulled out the room by an unseen force, spitting out curses “You’ll go right to the bathroom so don’t worry.” they get a distant ‘Fuck you!’ growled at them, poking their head out the door into the long dark hallway “It’s easier this way. My home is like a maze and you’d get lost, I’m just being nice” they smile sweetly, going back to picking up their tattered clothing.

\--------------  
“How old are you really?” Jiraiya asks begrudgingly, sitting next to the tub the witch was taking their sweet time soaking in. He can’t believe he actually drew a bath for them. He can’t believe hes actually fixing their clothes right now. What the fuck did he get himself into. He jinxed himself, pussy drunk his fucking left nut, this is hell.

Besides finding out that their ‘fine print’ makes Jiraiya a ‘glorified maid’, he’s found he can't technically leave this place (he /can/, they explained, but there’s a time restraint that’ll pull him right back to the witch). He’s been tricked and imprisoned by some weird crotchety bitch in the middle of god knows where for his power, domestic skills and sex (the sex part was his idea but /still/). 

At least the bathroom is nice, although small and completely white except the floor, covered in vases of orchids and roses, creeping vines covering the walls, a kind of tacky old little chandelier hanging over them and...a lot of white snake motifs...he doesn't know what that’s about….

“It’s not polite to ask a lady her age….I’m old enough…” they answer shortly, sinking lower into the water and drawing their legs up.

“Straight answer, witch.” they see a flicker of the etching on his skin start to resurface- annoyance, they suppose.

“...If you must know, since mending my clothes isn’t entertaining enough for you, I’m around six hundred...maybe older...it’s easier to round it out these days” Oro briefly counts on their fingers for a moment, using the sunlight from the window to illuminate their fingers

“Yeah, righ-.”

They’re pulling him closer with a flick of their wrist and holding him there with a tight fist, getting them nice and close so he can see their face….age. Their skin becoming a sickly pale and spotted, lines etched into its leathery state as their eyes sink, growing dark. He holds his breath, smelling the amount of times death has passed over them.

“Im older than you know, imp. Don’t try me.” their voice is distant and..serpentine... yet entirely surrounding, swearing he can hear their house(????) creak in protest at the power being put out. They wave him off, forcing him away from the tub and watching their youth return in an instant. They huff, sitting back in the water again.

Jiraiya snorts, brushing that off but keeping his eyes down and biting at a thread “....I’ve got relatives five times your age”

“I’m sure you do…..we don’t live as long as we used to….” they feel the demons eyes on them, questioning, and sinks further, sweet smelling water coming up to their chin with their hair bundled on top of their head.

“....You have to be younger than me...you’re absolutely clueless about witches despite us being involved with demons for centuries…oh god, you’re like a kid” they frown, cringing almost and Jiraiya erupts, horns bursting out his skull and smoke pouring out his mouth.

“I’m not a goddamn kid. I’m getting sick of your fucking mouth, you w-”

“You’re gonna rip it.” they say nonchalantly, eyes looking at their almost fixed skirt and ignoring his outburst that’s threatening to wilt their plants “You’ll have to start over…..” Oro watches him reel back, the fire and brimstone disappearing as his horns shrink away, huffing in annoyance.

“I know you’re not a kid. I didn’t lie when I said I know you’re capable and strong. Do you want me to apologize?” they speak softly, hanging over the edge of the tub, spilling rosewater onto the dark tile. Oro isn't one for apologies, preferring to twist the situation until it suits them or….well...curses to bend, break and bind tend to work just as well.

The witch isn't sure if they can curse him at all but….they suppose if disgustingly honest apologies and thinly veiled lies are what it takes to, for lack of a better word, tame him, then so be it.

“...Yes.” he crosses his arms, spitting it out. He makes a face as hes pulled closer with a twist of their fingers and their hands come up to cup his cheeks.

He’s regretting this.

“I’m sorry, my lovely familiar” they croon saccharinely to Jiraiyas unamused face, nuzzling against his cheek “I didn’t mean to insult you”

“I hate you.”

“You like my body too much to mean that”

“......” he glances down to stare at their breasts for the third time in the last fifteen minutes, eyes flickering to look at their face “True.” he gets a snake smug smile and a request for fruit from them. 

(He doesn’t even know where to get it until hes being tugged away by an invisible force again, listening to their laugh echo and finally understanding why there's so many damn snake motifs in this hellhole)

Jiraiya isn’t one to make mistakes. His track record and ‘client’ list is flawless in selection and execution. He’s ranked and praised for a reason. He’s a goddamn example to follow for Incubus and demons alike: young, successful, powerful, hes on track to getting his own fucking domain.

But this.

This is a fuck up to end all fuck ups.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imma be real with you chief, idk when or how I'm updating this again which is pretty bad bc half my tags are for later chapters i have planned lmao....... i usually stick to making twitter thread aus (you can find them pinned @for2buns, I also scream miscellaneously there)  
> I honestly don't know how I got back into this fandom and ESPECIALLY this hellhole of a ship but I've been here since May because I lack self control. This is my first mostly In character thing Ive written for them, everything else has been grossly self indulgent and wishful thinking lmao  
> anyways thanks for reading, Its been years since I've written something this big and im hoping to get better as this goes on


	2. Rhinella Marina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don't speak ill of the dead, only the truth..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year lol, I finally got over my writers block, there's more serious notes at the bottom. Thank you to my friends for beta'ing my stuff and forcing me to confront my terrible grammar.

“I have work to do. You know that right?” 

 

“For a witch, you’re not a very good liar~” Jiraiya emphasizes the word liar by digging his nails --correction, claws now, stained a deep ruddy color up to his elbows-- into the already bruised skin of their hips, threatening to pierce the skin.

 

When the demon feels himself yanked backwards in the small space of the kitchen, back hitting a rack of jars and flasks hard enough to shake them but not enough to topple it, he huffs.

 

“You’re no fun lately…”

 

“If you’re not going to help then just go somewhere else. This is hard enough without you breathing down my neck.” Their tone is short and curt, already feeling a headache coming on without Jiraiya’s help, or rather lack thereof. 

 

“So that means you’ll let me go?” there's a hopeful smile on his face as he takes on a more human appearance, trying to make himself seem harmless. It makes Orochimaru frown.

 

“Don’t push it.” They go back to focusing on the bottom of the copper lined cauldron, watching the small amount of liquid boil over itself.  _ It’s not right, the texture, the color….the taste _ , Oro notes after dipping their hand in and licking the mixture off their palm, ignoring Jiraiya’s retching from behind them.

 

“....the longer you keep trying the worse it’ll get, y’know. Especially since you’re getting so pissy. ” He rolls his eyes when the witch doesn’t answer him, pretending to look busy as they moved around the small kitchen in their layers of thin, black, cotton gauze, their back always to him.

 

“At least let me go.” Jiraiya tried to move from the rack of specimens and bottles he's currently pinned to, finding he’s still unable to remove himself from the spot without great effort. This little witch shouldn’t have that much influence and strength over him…and yet...

 

“No.” They finally answer, replacing a bottle of shifting black liquid to its proper spot. “Until you do what you’re supposed to, you can stay right there”

 

“And what the fuck exactly is that?? Is it the piles of housework you expect me to pick up on in this dump? Letting you treat me like a rag doll and or verbal punching bag? Please, for the love of god, enlighten me as to what I’m supposed to be doing.” Oro watches Jiraiya work himself up, the smoke starting to roll off his skin and haori.

 

“You’re making it smell like sulfur, it’s disgusting..”

 

He’s going to combust. 

 

Orochimaru ignores the conniption fit made of fire and brimstone erupting behind them, choosing to shove their face into the pot to escape the sound of whatever curses are pouring out his mouth by watching the liquid broil over itself. This whole scene probably looks funny from the outside looking in. And it is, being that Oro has personally secured their status as a laughing stock, a shameful thing. So maybe their coven doesn’t know that their head, their own fucking leader, can’t even tame a demon, has lost their familiar and can barely gain a new one? They don’t know yet but when they do…

 

They just hope word doesn’t travel fast.

 

_ You’re being hard on yourself. Don’t grind yourself into the dirt, you old hag. Stop being such a loner, you know that’s how the hunters get you, we have to stick together!  _ The coven means well, they all truly care, but it’s so hard to believe. They’ve been stuck in a rut of self depreciation for so long, It’s easier to think that the coven will abandon them once they’re powerless. Worst of all, none of them understand what’s really going on, and if Oro were to tell them the truth...well. Maybe it’s better if they never do.

 

The last hundred…(two hundred?) years or so feel like a charade. The truth of the matter being…

 

“You don’t know what you’re doing either, huh?”

 

Oro pulls themselves away from the pot at the sound of his calm realization,  

pulling their hat forward before sitting in front of the cauldron to watch the flames lick at its scorched bottom. 

 

“I didn’t lie when I said witches are weaker without their familiar. Not in strength, not the way most know. In mind and spirit, we’re lost, drifting….vulnerable…” their left hand squeezes into a tight fist before relaxing. They’ve been surviving, purely reacting for so long--it’s how they ended up in this mess in the first place.

 

“....I didn’t ask all that, I asked if you didn’t know what you’re doing.” his tone is matter of fact

 

Oro turns around from their place on the floor to give him a nasty look--they still can’t curse him so this is the best they can muster.

 

“I don’t.”

 

“I figured, I just wanted you to say it. What did your last familiar do?” He talks over the disgusted sound they make. Jiraiya isn’t good with…..emotions or whatever, ironic because of mostly dealing with humans, but is good at getting what he wants. He sees it more like problem solving instead of negotiating or, god forbid, compromise. He knows the sooner he calms their internal meltdown, the sooner he can get off this glorified spice rack, the sooner he can fuck and get what’s left of this witches chore list done, and the sooner he can take a fucking nap. All in that order.

 

“...I don't remember. It was centuries ago.” It's fuzzy in their mind, most of their older memories are, not even the mind can hold up against time.

 

“Better think hard then.” He bites out, the moment of fake patience cut short again. Jiraiya listens as they draw in a deep breath and prepare to thud their head against a large jar of swirling something to prepare for a dry ass lecture.

 

“Spit in the pot,” they speak on the exhale.

 

“Do what now?”

 

Oro’s hand comes up, releasing them from the rack without a glance, “Spit in it.”

 

“....Right, okay.” He knows better than to question it at this point, besides it's the the oddest request or order he's gotten from them. Several months into their deal and he knows it could be worse. Much worse. He pointedly ignore the face of absolute disgust they make as he makes an awful noise in the back of his throat.

 

“I asked for spit, not phlegm.”

 

“Be grateful.” It's his turn to ignore the little ‘ugh’ they make as he hacks directly into the pot, glancing down into it as he wipes his mouth. “Is it supposed to be doing this?” He comments on the the fact the liquid now bubbles violently, tripling in volume and turning a violent shade of orange before it dulled. Oro is already on their feet, gathering up their skirts and staring for a moment before making a contented sound.

 

“It...worked.” There's an air of disbelief in their words. Nodding slowly, they step backwards with a sigh, bumping into a table nestled into a corner of the small kitchen, bracing themself against it with a hand as they leaned against the old wood. “...Thank you.”

 

The demon simply grunts, watching the liquid in the cauldron thicken and bubble wetly. “What's this for anyway?”

 

“Dinner.” They aren't phased by the withering look Jiraiya gives him “It tastes good with snails in it, if it still does since you gave me a chunk of mucus” 

 

He scoffs at that, crossing his arms as he watched the pot with disgust, Oro taking a rare moment of silence to think. He is their familiar, there's no doubt of it now. It brings a feeling of peace but also …dread. He's powerful, of course, yet untrustworthy. Brash. Seemingly impulsive and single-minded. Nothing like any familiar they've had before. Witches long gone had always taken demons as their companions but Oro is the only one surviving from that time and was too young to be taught the intricacies of it, just the basics. They hope to can find something the elders left behind to help them in taming him. Until then…

 

There's hands on either sides of their hips, the wooden table creaking loudly in protest. Oro’s skin heats up as Jiraiya looms over them, still entirely too tall in his more human form. 

 

“Speaking of food, I think I should eat first.” It sounds less like a request, Oros eyes glancing up to watch his eyes search and shift, pupils flattening out before they decide whatever is on the worn wood floor beneath them is better to stare at. They've been finding odd things about demon physiology but doesn't know why his eyes do that. Maybe it's because he's thinking with his dick instead of his actual head.

 

“You've already had your fill today.” Oro feels the need to remind them, unable to place emotion behind the laugh that rumbles in Jiraiya’s chest.

 

“Man cannot survive on bread alone,” he grins at the piercing look Oro gives him, pressing closer and ignoring the gauze layers of their skirt.

 

“Scripture isn't a turn on. Unless you like me covered in hives,” their skin crawls, then soothes as he feels their grin in the side of his neck as they're pushed to sitting on the table. The last few months have been like this, a slow hunt, an encroachment on their personal space, a gentle wearing down before it erupts into carnal heat then exhaustion. But it's what they prefer now. What they want to feel has changed and Jiraiya knows that with a simple, single touch. Oro hasn't decided if they feel entirely comfortable with someone knowing their body as well as he does, but at least he's not completely in their head. They're thankful for that much. Oro feels him shift, head dipping closer to their collar bone, feeling the soft silk of his clothes against their legs and glancing to note this is the most human he's looked while trying to subtly eat them alive. It...interests them, a change from being manhandled and snapped in half by some giant monstrous thing. Which, being honest, is far from monstrous to them now. But he doesn't need to know that, and pushes that thought to the back of their head.

 

And Jiraiya yanks it forward, stringing along their desires as his fingers curl around  their bare wrist. Their heart sinks, and burns hot in the pit of their stomach when the laughing starts.

 

“...just don't break anything this time.” They say calmly as the room rattles, looking past him to watch the cauldron gently rock before becoming steady again.

 

Jiraiya snorts, taking a short step back and leveling them with a dark expression. “Not every promise is worth keeping, little witch.” His hands are quick, digging into the undersides of their thighs right through the fabric, and lunging forward. Oro will never admit to the pathetic sound they made at being shoved farther back on the table, nor how it made every inch of their body grow hotter as he caged them in. They catch a flash of their orange sock and pointed boot, reminded of something comical as their legs are pushed up high and regrets letting Jiraiya find find out how flexible they are. 

 

That’s a bold lie, and any lasting regrets are a moot point by now as a Jiraiya presses down and overtakes them, hearing the table beneath them creak long and low.

 

\--------------

 

“You  _ broke  _ it.”

 

“It’s just a crack-”

 

“Cracked in half. And I  _ still  _ have splinters in my back.” Oro winces as Jiraiya yanks a shard of wood out their back with a bit of vicious intent. They can't complain too much, it's what they wanted and expected--Not the broken table or the splinters, just the fucked into next week with an edge of pain part. While they don't appreciate him choosing several times through the day to wear their body out, they can say they do enjoy how thorough he can be.

 

“I know it'll take more than this to kill you..” he mutters, eyes drifting to look over the ink that covers their back, ever shifting and shivering runes, seals and shapes that he can't read or even bare to stare at for too long. He's never noticed them move before, knew they had tattoos but never saw them up close despite…. doing things that were more interesting back here.

 

“That doesn't mean try anyway,” they bite back, seething as Jiraiya watches the ink twitch in annoyance. He goes quiet, continuing to pick pieces of the centuries old wood from their skin. Once he feels them settle down into their place on the floor atop their intact clothing, his jaw shifts in preparation for violence, avoidance, or possibly possibly worst of all, the truth.

 

“What happened to your last familiar?” 

 

The ink stops, suddenly looking like regular yet odd tattoos before they wriggle to life again, a quiet breath leaving Oro as they curl into themselves. Jiraiya searches their back beyond the tattoos for any sense of action or emotion, a sign of anything.

 

“...Kabuto was a mess of a familiar.” their voice is low, quieter than Jiraiya has ever heard it and he hesitates for a moment before continuing to pull the last few splinters.

 

“All he had was knowledge and barely even that...he was weak to even his own magic. A basic cast would make him ill, almost as bad as a human. Though, he was more lizard than human, small, scared...surviving. And yet he managed to stay with me the longest, defying the odds, I suppose. Or maybe it was my pity for him?” Oro's hand comes up and curls around their bare shoulder as they stare blankly at the fire hand slowly trailing down their arm before continuing.

 

“ I had more compassion then, but it was in all the wrong places...regardless, I helped him as much as I could. In return….I didn't get much. For all his flaws, I can admit he was an adept problem solver, he could figure things out, solutions to complex situations and spells, but I was the one to apply it. A waste of a mind…” their skin heals as the last bit of wood is extracted, rolling their shoulder before continuing

 

“I don't speak ill of the dead, only the truth. But it doesn't help that I wasn't particularly fond of him. Yet, he looked to me as though I was...everything. Like I held every answer in my hands. Good for an ego boost but beyond that, I disliked it. I’m just a witch, powerful, yes, but there are things beyond power out there. I just didn't expect him to chase after those things. Foolish me though it was an effort to impress, how quickly he gathered strength and confidence in his abilities and research into this world and beyond. I just didn't realize….” their voice completely drops off, the kitchen quiet except for the quiet cracklings of flame from beneath the pot

 

“Realize what?” He finds that he immediately regrets asking.

 

“He was trying to become me. Though, I don't think that was his initial or even his final plan. Finding he couldn't help me as himself he figured...that this was the next best thing. The planning of a fractured mind and ego suggested that eating me would grant him the ability to assist me-”

 

“Assist you in what?” Jiraiya can feel they're hiding something, leaving it out. There's another quiet pause as he watches their back. He can see Oro's hand come up to their face, carefully touching around their eyes.

 

“....he got close. So close to my heart, my eyes….I don't know how I managed to get that dagger out of my chest, but I know how it ended up in him-”

 

“That's not what I-”

 

“Witches cannot leave their familiar’s body behind. No matter how sentimental, symbolic, hated….no matter how badly every inch of them tastes.”

 

The silence is stifling this time, Oro slowly moving to sit up. Jiraiya doesn't feel fear, but an uneasiness settles over him as the symbols of their back jerk into stillness.

 

Then he sees it, encircling both their forearms as they use them for leverage to stand. A pair of seals that seem to be pushing from the inside out of their skin, what looks like flecks of gold outlining the twisted patterns. The language and symbols making up the seals are old, much older than the witch themself and are of a violent script, every sharp edged letter and symbol punched into their skin. More importantly, they were never there, as many times as he's seen and grabbed those arms, they did not exist before this moment, as if they're appearing now to make a statement or issue a warning. These seals are identical and still, not made to move or be moved.

 

Worst of all, he can read them. He can understand the demonic language of the binding contract right down to the name of the holder pressed into their flesh.

 

“I do know, in the end, he was the catalyst for making everything so much worse. Cocky and self righteous in thinking he can take on something beyond this realm. It's what drove him mad, broke his mind and damned me even further.”

 

“Orochimaru…” Jiraiya’s voice is strained, a mix of anger and confusion pulsing off his body in waves as his human facade drops entirely, horns erupting out of his skull as he speaks through sharp, gritted teeth “What is that?”

 

Oro looks over their shoulder, an innocent move overshadowed by the dread that hung heavy in the air as his question shook the room. There's a small, empty smile on their face as they stared into him.

 

“It’s my wedding ring.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect it to take this long to write the next part of this but lmao :^). Also, thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments and even bookmarked this?? Holy shit? It still kind of a shock that people like my writing. This is all a huge challenge for me since I've never written long stuff before so I'm happy folks wanna follow along with it. Next chapter before 2020, hopefully :^).


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